


Ouroboros

by CaptainCorgi



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Humor, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainCorgi/pseuds/CaptainCorgi
Summary: In a ring around them eggs wiggled and wobbled. The dragonlets stuck inside their solid shells. The men and women (some terribly young still) waited at attention, arms behind them and hands cupped together. Their simple dress of tanned leathers were meant to be torn away under the sharp claws and blind thrashing of an overexcited dragonlet.The day a dragon is born is the day an unbreakable bond is formed.That bond will hold through sickness, health, war, famine, good and bad times; through life itself.





	1. ACT I: “In Which Humans Make Good Scratching Posts”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Oricalcon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oricalcon/gifts).



> A gift (originally posted on Tumblr) for the wonderful, amazing, talented Oricalcon.

_ **Note: Jack is house cat sized. Gabriel is around 14. _

**\--- --- ---**

In a ring around them eggs wiggled and wobbled. The dragonlets stuck inside their solid shells. The men and women (some terribly young still) waited at attention, arms behind them and hands cupped together. Their simple dress of tanned leathers were meant to be torn away under the sharp claws and blind thrashing of an overexcited dragonlet. 

Gabriel waited near the middle of the row. Broad shoulders too big for his frame balanced on a narrow waist. Manhood was years off but his height already commanded attention. The mess of curls atop his head flopped to one side. Fruitless attempts to puff the hair away only resulted on annoyed glances from the other candidates. 

Above them, standing behind a balcony carved into the stone, the Council watched the proceedings. The cavern was quiet save the crackle of eggshells and shuffled moccasin feet.

The first head peeked out. The translucent membrane blinked over deep brown eyes. The yolk coated dragonlet leaned over then flopped out onto the stone floor. Tiny, curled wings beat against the ground. The dragonlet's legs thrashed on the air as the cavern filled with the high pitched cries of the newborn.

The writhing bronze body went unaided.

The candidates unable to interfere on the ancient process. They stand still even when another dragonlet (a terribly stunted green) pried it's body free of an egg further down. Then a blue followed. This one a definite runt but it's claws scraped against granite and it's lithe body hurdled between the clutch with whip like speed. It's claws echoed like nails in the confined space. 

All three dragonlets soon rushed towards the candidates. Those few moments of connection that followed infinitely important. The mental link between dragon and rider formed with a simple meeting of gazes. The chosen candidates winced and jerked as sharp claws dug into their flesh. The dragonlets crawled up their bodies to shove long snouts against their chosen human’s forehead. The simple leather clothing tore away or shredded under the impromptu scratching sessions.

Another bronze followed.

Then two blues and a green.

All finding their matches.

None of them him.

Four candidates left and three eggs unmatched. There were more unhatched but no clutch was without it's duds. He had seen them before; knew first hand how broken the dragoness often was when she returned to find her clutch wasn't completely fertile.

The Council stayed to observe the entire proceedings. Those with dragonlets left to deepen the bond and explore their new life companion. He shifted weight to his right hip, resisting the urge to lock his knee for balance or wring his hands. The physical expression of anxiety or annoyance would be looked down on. That didn't stop his breath from hitching when another body tumbled out of an egg.

A slime covered blue body with bedraggled wings toddled forward, the snout held to the air. The dragonlet’s nostrils flared. The forked tail waved in a lazy arch behind the lithe body. Brilliant summer sky eyes turned and clicked with deep brown. A slender tongue tasted the air. A gentle chirp was the only warning before the blue bounded across the space between them. Gabriel braced himself as the tiny body collided with his shin, razor thin claws scrambled up his thighs and the weight of a delicate body settled around his shoulders. Wings unfurled and beat against the back of his head as the dragonlet hissed attempting to maintain its balance. Those claws weren't gentle. Shallow gouges scored his shoulders and neck until the creature settled enough. Gabriel's jaw clenched to bite back the cries of pain that gurgled in the back of his throat.

One blue eye stared perilously close to Gabriel's own. His hands itched to touch, to feel the smooth hide of the dragonlet yet he refrained. This was for the dragonlet to decide.

Gabriel stared back despite the sting of fresh injuries.

The rough texture of a tongue scraped across his jaw yet the sapphire eye remained unblinking. There was a moment there like a thunderstorm on the horizon and he felt the jolt between them. The force of a second mind crashing head on into his own sent Gabriel back a step. His feet barely balanced out. His hand just managed to grab the granite wall. Then a cold, slick snout pressed to his cheek and a tender paw pad followed.

_ ‘What is your name?’  _ The voice was quiet, almost cautious. The small claws massaged the skin of his cheek.

_ ‘Gabriel,’ _ he responded.

‘ _ What is my name?’ _ The paw stroked down and settled on his jaw. The long front of the dragonlet’s face pressed between his eyes. That sky gaze felt almost pleading.

Gabriel pulled a blank. Being put on the spot made all the preparation of their lessons turn tail and run. He grasped at straws. This was important. This was the name his companion would carry for a lifetime. There was no changing the moniker. He couldn’t conjure jack all for a name.

“Jack.” Gabriel choked out. He heard the barely concealed chuckled behind and ignored the derisive sound.

_ ‘Jack,’ _ the dragonlet tilted its head. The long tongue snaked out to caress over Gabriel's cheek and nose. 

_ ‘No. That's a bad name,’ _ he hastily tried to reprimand. Both hands coming around to try and attempt to pry the still slime dragonlet off his body.

_ ‘Jack! Jack!’ _ Each mental shout came accompanied by a pitched chirp.

_ ‘No,’ _ he groaned, hands trying to wrangle the squirming body.

‘ _ Jack!’  _ The dragonlet screeched, the high note rang in his ears.

“Bonded!” Gabriel jerked his head up at the booming baritone of the High Councilor. The man cut an imposing figure; straight backed and white bearded and with a scarred eye. “It appears your companion has chosen and a name has been decided. Please leave the cavern and see to your companion’s accommodations.” The man ordered but his lips twitched into a fleeting smile.

“Yes sir!” Gabriel snapped to attention, right arm slammed across his chest. He saluted and leaned into an awkward bow of acknowledgement, biting the inside of his cheek as the dragonlet - as Jack scrambled to maintain his perch.

His leather jerkin hung in ribbons over his torso. The mute shuffle of his moccasins followed each footstep. Jack found a suitable perch on his shoulder, snout buried in the curls atop Gabriel's head. Each hot puff of a breath ruffled the hair. The opalescent tail wrapped around in a loose loop across the front of Gabriel's throat. The separated tip flicked back and forth against his neck.

The short but yawning entryway to the egg chamber curved right and the sun of late afternoon flooded in. Gabriel yelped when the baby claws gripped tighter and dug into the skin of his scalp. Jack's confused chattering followed as Gabriel attempted to calm the dragonlet with careful strokes to the forked tail.

“Calm down. It's just the sun,” Gabriel soothed, his fingers running over the scales.

_ ‘Sun.’  _ Jack repeated.

“Yes. Sun,” Gabriel nodded. He scratched under the dragonlet’s chin, listening to the contented purr that followed.


	2. ACT II: “In Which Turnabout is Fair Play”

_ **Note: Jack is large dog sized. Gabriel is around 19. _

**\--- --- ---**

Honestly, he was exhausted.

Not from the heavy afternoon sun nor form the extensive three hours of combat training. This was a bone weary tiredness. The feeling seeped in and refused to release where its claws clung tight to his very marrow.

Gabriel laid sprawled on the dusty ground, arms spread out and right leg bent at the knee. His mind focused on the simple rhythm of breath in. Breath out. Listen to his heartbeat still strong and defiant in his chest. His head hadn’t yet stopped its down ward spin. 

The cold pressure of a scaled muzzle pressed against his cheek.

“No,” he groaned, hand pushing away the intrusion.

_ ‘Get up.’ _

“No.”

_ ‘Get. Up.’  _ Each word came punctuated by a vibrating growl; low and almost beneath his hearing range.

Gabriel's eyes closed. The heels of his hands wrung circles and painful spots behind his eyelids. That pain took his mind off the crawled ache along his spine or the burn in his thighs. “I am trying to forget what just happened.” The cold nose poked back against his forehead. “You aren’t helping.”   
  
_ ‘I’m not trying to help. We are here to train.’  _ Jack’s hot breath snorted the bangs plastered to Gabriel’s forehead.  _ ‘Lying on the ground is not training.’ _

Gabriel growled, smacked his fist into the side of the dragon’s muzzle and rolled to his feet. Jack shook his head, rearing on his hind legs with a surprised growl.

Once on his feet, Gabriel stared down the dragon. Brown met blue and the duo both responded with sneers. His fists hung balled at his sides, chest heaving with suppressed anger. The dragon swayed, head shaking to chase away the sting of the underhanded blow. Leather like wings unfurled to frame serpentine body. Claws dug deep furrows in the compressed, sand ground. The segmented tail lashed behind with a distinct, piercing crack.

Two bodies crashed in the training grounds. One scales and claws and gnashing fangs. The other muscle and sinew and raw determination. 

Jack dipped, head lowered with jaws yawning open and aimed for the exposed flank of his human companion. The intent came telegraphed as obvious as the sun in the damn sky. Gabriel dodged to the side, faked the commitment to the motion and doubled forward to ram the broad front of his shoulder into the vulnerable, thin scaled flesh of the dragon’s sternum.

They collided.

He hissed as claws grappled for a grip around his thigh. Searing breath blew across the sweat stained tunic that clung to his back. His arms wrapped around the meat of Jack’s neck, buffeting his hold close to the junction between head and throat. The vice grip kept the dragon from twisting his head to put that deadly maw to use. Jack roared in his ear. The other clawed hand scrambled against the hard packed ground attempting to regain leverage.

“Try again,” Gabriel snarled, his legs braced and throwing his weight to the side.

_ ‘What?’ _ Jack squeaked. The sound silenced and turned over into a growl when Gabriel's momentum sent the dragon crashing sideways. The pearlescent blue face gouged a new trench in the dirt.

“Try. Agai-!” Gabriel yelped. His feet swiped out from under. His tailbone and back connected with the ground.

Jack's maw hung half open, fangs gleaming, slightly yellowed with age, in the silent mimicry of a canine's laughter. The eyes to match the skies above danced with mirth. The separated, elegant tail wove a lazy, feline pattern in the space above Gabriel's body. His hand reached out and snatched for the tip only to miss. Jack hissed, forked tongue slipped out mocking his rider.

_ ‘You aren't impressing anyone,’  _ the dragon said. His tail jerked away from a second, sluggish attempt to grab the appendage. Gabriel grumbled and fell back, limbs akimbo on the ground. They were back to square one. Jack's nose once again pushed into his side.  _ ‘Brute force won't work against cannons.’ _

“I know. But not all battles are won in the air either,” Gabriel scratched dirty, blunt nails across the top of the blue snout. Jack hummed in agreement. The dragon leaned into the attentions, a rolling rumble reverberating through the ground.

_ ‘We are done for the day?’ _ Summer gaze blinked long and slow accompanying the inquiry.

“Hell yes,” Gabriel chuckled. “Get up.” He pushed away the nose with far less annoyance then before.

_ ‘What is for evening meal?’ _ Jack stood and shook until his wings flared; a full bodied movement from tip to tail. The pearlescent scales catching and retracting sunbeams in a myriad of directions. His feet bounced around in an impatient dance Gabriel had grown all too familiar with meaning the dragon was itching beneath his own skin. A miraculous observation considering the last few grueling hours under the relentless sun.

“Whatever you can catch,” he responded and rolled up. Broad hands not yet filled out from boyhood growth dusted off particles from his rear and thighs.

_ ‘Deer then. Or boar,’ _ Jack snorted, haunches bunched and that was all the warning Gabriel received before the dragon leapt. Dust and dirt and downdraft buffeted his sweat stained leathers and clogged his nose. 

_ ‘Warning next time!’  _ Coughing, blearily glaring up at the fading blue speck Gabriel plucked a pebble from between his teeth.  
  
_ ‘Hunting!’ _ Was the returned, entirely too amused response.


	3. ACT III: “In Which There is Calm Before the Storm”

_ **Note: Jack is elephant sized. Gabriel is around 24. _

**\--- --- ---**

Warriors (both bipedal and quadruped) lumbered through the campsite. Thunder clouds blotted out the moon and her starry companions. Lightning provided brief flashes of clarity; the haggard faces of men used to war or the hung heads of dragons accustomed to exhaustion.

This war had gone on too long. By any one’s reckoning that was a lifetime.

Those that could recall the beginnings were worm fodder or their minds gone from the visceral, rending tear left behind in absence of their dragon. Humans lived on after their lifetime partner perished. Dragons were not so fortunate. Their constitution did not carry the capacity to rekindle that connection once severed. Once broken the scaled beasts raged only to throw themselves to their own demise.

In the corner, seated before a flickering flame, Gabriel leaned against the tender underbelly of his own companion. The slow, steady inhale movement acted as a comfortable pillow. The gentle sway of Jack’s head, the dragon’s eyes hooded in their quiet observation of the campsite; all contradictions to the commanders barking orders and the soldiers hurrying to follow.

There was no fight. Not right now. There was a lull, an unsteady impasse between opposing forces while night and thunder and lightning dominated the atmosphere.

“How’re you feeling?” Gabriel’s gaze followed the seduction of the flames, his ears tuned out all but the crackle of burnt hickory.

_ ‘Still hurts,’ _ Jack couldn’t quite conceal the gentle keen to his voice. Even without a true voice to his cause the dragon’s noise of pain came through clear as day.  _ ‘How is your face?’ _ The cool touch of the scaled nose pressed forward to huff hot breath across the bandaged injury.

“It’ll heal.” Gabriel grunted. A hurtling piece of wayward shrapnel had caught him across the jawline on a pass.

_ ‘Good.’ _ Jack pulled away enough to give Gabriel space. Massive forelegs shifted to change positions, his belly more fully concealed beneath the girth of his shoulders and broad fans of his wings.

Gabriel grumbled at being misplaced.

They fell into silence. Merely listened to the fire, the soldiers, the encampment and the forest as the backdrop. Wounds from battles past and recent ached. Jack’s wings tingled from the tiring flights above the cannon fire. Gabriel’s thighs were numb from hours in the saddle, strapped down, unable to move and directing his companion with mental commands. The dusk turned to true darkness until the men settled and their dragons fell to restless slumber besides warm bodies or cold tents. Not every pairing was … mutual. Silently Gabriel’s hand reached out, calloused fingers brushed over the shimmering scales on Jack’s hide with a sincere, reassuring stroke. The scarred tissue of the dragon's brand (a stark seven and six - their flight calling code) stood out as nearly transparent in the firelight. Jack’s rolling rumble in answer and the weight of the dragon’s head smothering the sweat greased curls atop Gabriel’s head followed.

“They’re correct you know.” He scoffed.

_ ‘Hn?’ _

“Guess,” he closed his eyes and huffed a sigh, shoulders hunched forward in an exaggeration of the weight from the dragon’s head.

_ ‘No idea.’ _

“Really?” Gabriel twisted and jabbed a shoulder just under Jack’s ribs.

_ ‘Really,’ _ the dragon emphasized the wheeze in his voice.

“Off. Off!” Gabriel jerked away, running one hand through his ruffled hair and the other used to catch Jack’s nose before the cold appendage could intrude in his space any further.

_ ‘Dragons are big cats with too many teeth and not enough fur,’ _ Jack's words barely contained the amusement.

“Yes. You're doing a damn good job proving them right,” Gabriel glanced to his side where Jack's head now rested nestled against his thigh. In their time together the dragon had grown to a moderate size. Not enormous like the bronze but a formidable proportion that allowed for sharp aerial maneuvers and quick reactions. There were days Gabriel wondered how such a magnificent beast could be bothered to break bread with such a bedraggled man such as himself.

_ ‘Don’t think too hard. You're smoking.’  _ Jack's summer sky eyes slammed shut when Gabriel's backhand smacked him across the forehead.

“Smart ass.”

_ ‘Always.’ _

They shared a chuckle; Gabriel's shoulder shaking, muted tones mingled with Jack's silent outward laughter yet boisterous mirth filtered down their connection. The shared sounds calmed minutes later, smothered under the reminder of what the sunrise would bring. A dying man's mournful wail punctuated the blanket of oppression. Gabriel leaned back, legs bent and forearms braced against his knees. Jack only adjusted enough to peer down at his rider. A single, slow blink of the dragon's brilliant gaze followed.

“We're not ready for tomorrow,” Gabriel murmured. 

_ ‘Neither am I.’ _

“No. I mean we need another day,” Gabriel kept his tone down. These whispers were simply not permitted within the camp; the principle of thinking but not speaking such sentiments reigned among the men.

_ ‘Gabriel-’ _

“To plan. To wait for the scouts to return. To let the men rest before throwing them out again. To read the reports and form a strategy,” Gabriel's words grew above a whisper until a nudge to his shoulder interrupted the tirade.

_ ‘You are frightened.’ _

“No,” he sighed, the sound resigned and forlorn. “We've trained for war. We've seen battles and bloodshed and I hear the cries of cannons as loud as the screams of the dying in my mind.” Gabriel absently ran a hand over the crest of the snout pushed into his side. “I'm not frightened. I'm uncertain and fighting without a clear end-” He left the sentence to hang.

Jack whined in sympathy or, rather, the dragonic equivalent; a low pitched thru through the very earth that rattled pebbles and swayed the grass. His broad forehead pressed in, along the equally broad side of his rider's body and continued the action.

_ ‘I will protect you.’ _

“I know,” Gabriel settled, felt the tension bleed from.his body. The high strung energy chased away by the dragon's throaty sounds and sincere promise. “But who will protect them?” His head jerked towards the encampment.

_ ‘They have their companions.’ _

“That isn't always enough.”

_ ‘Gabriel,’ _ Jack craned his neck, bringing his head around to stare down and into his rider's gaze.  _ ‘You cannot near the burden of every life on this battlefield. You cannot have every man's back. I'll will watch over you as you did when I was a dragonlet but letting the decisions of others influence your mind tomorrow- We will not live to see dusk.’ _

“Fine,” Gabriel didn't break the contact but his shoulders slumped. The words made sense. Inwardly he cursed the heavens for being given a companion younger yet sometimes wiser. Dragons and their philosophy.

_ ‘Gabriel.’ _

“I won't let you die,” he pushed at the place between Jack's eyes with the sole of his boot. Jack snorted, head tilted in scepticism. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “But only because I won't have anyone else to snap at me to eat.”

_ ‘Of course,’  _ Jack returned to his previous position with the underside of his jaw resting easily on Gabriel's head.  _ ‘But you should eat more. You're looking skinny. _ ’ A dagger sharp claw prodded at the sensitive, loose muscle of Gabriel's side.

“Stop!” He smacked at the offending appendage, twisting to try and batting at the muzzle balanced on his head. Jack pulled away with that near silence dragon chuckle. “Annoying lizard cat.”

Jack snorted. His summer eyes danced with mischief in the light of the campfire flames. Gabriel's yelp of indignation as his body toppled unceremoniously over (headbutted by an overgrown “kitten with scales”) broke the somber mood of the encampment for a brief but welcome moment.


	4. ACT IV: “In Which the Fates Deal Their Hands”

_ **Note: Jack is orca sized. Gabriel is around 32. _

**\--- --- ---**

_ ‘Port side!’ _ Gabriel jerked in the same direction. He tossed his entire mass against the saddle, right hand holding the reins in a white knuckle grip while his thighs burned from the constant restriction of the riding straps. His legs wouldn't move. Only a force of magnitude or his willing decision to pull the eject cord could unseat him.

Jack responded, his body banked and wings beat at the sulfurous air.   
  
They were (for lack of a better term) as one. Not as a single body but a cohesive mind. Their youngster reservations and wide eyed realizations were gone; dashed against the broad sides of sailing ships and stronghold walls alike.

They held lives in their hands now.

They were Commanders.

Only the Council was higher. Out here, amidst the clouds of gunpowder and the storm of arrows, the Council’s words meant nothing.

_ ‘Dive. Dive!’ _ Gabriel urged. Jack’s body responded. His broad wings beat against the air. His tail whipped behind a long body. The appendage cracked as sharp as lightning. Their path aimed them for the impressive galleon and the cannons boomed again.

_ ‘Deck?’ _ Jack barked the question, his eyes turned just enough to catch the determined line between Gabriel’s brow and the stern, clenched set of the man’s jaw.

_ ‘Yes!’ _ Came the answer.

The deck loomed closer. 

A roar echoed behind them. Their squadron; they’re closest, experienced warriors followed the path set by their Commanders. Gabriel ordered. Jack obeyed. The hard wood and the slick surface of the galleon were just there. The men aboard grew from mere specks to living, breathing beings. Their flight path brought them too close and turned them into massive targets. Ships were easy to spot from far off yet hard to hit given the requirement to measure distance and angles. That same concept applied to the dragons.   
  
Jack watched the cannons swung up. His keen eyesight noted the sailors scrambling to reload in the matter of seconds between impact. His fore claws reached out yet his hind were tucked close in. Mere yards from the deck Jack’s wings snapped out, the metaphorical breaks and the forward momentum halted just enough to gouge the deck. Sailors scattered at his presence. His tail smacked the nearest cannon and sent the piece of artillery over the deck.

Gabriel’s war cry echoed across the wood. Sailors scattered, seeking to arm themselves and fight back. Gabriel snapped off the restraints, his heavy booted feet hit the deck beside Jack’s shoulder. In each hand was a more modern weapon; a piece of engineering the Council commissioned from the craftsmen in the mountains. A single shot flintlock that packed enough power to knock a dragon down from the sky. Against men the pellets traveled through multiple bodies if aimed correctly.

So when as Gabriel fired and the pellet laid low three men with one shot Jack wasn’t surprised. He followed his rider’s body. They were a fluid fighting unit. Jack’s tail and claws took out men that aimed to take advantage of Gabriel’s exposed flanks. In turn Gabriel shot down or engaged in hand to hand combat.

_ ‘Down!’ _ Jack ordered, his wings snapped out and flared to cover Gabriel.

The musket shot pierced the membrane. Though the dragon snarled, the pain was quickly forgotten. Jack’s neck reeled back to a perfect arch; his body positioned to inspire fear as though he was the incarnation of retribution behind Gabriel’s own aggressive stance. Those pearlescent eyes began to glow from a light behind them. A similar show began across Jack’s shoulders, the light rolled up his neck. The spaces between the smooth scales created the effect of an aurora flowing just underneath the dragon’s inherent armor. 

It all happened in a flash; a blink and miss it.

Jack’s beryl pulse fire seared the deck. The water and smoke went ignored by the unnatural dragonic weapon. Men yowled as their clothing burned to flesh and their weapons exploded in their hands.

_ ‘Overkill!’ _ Gabriel smirked. He holstered the weapons and leap back into the saddle.

Jack’s wings took to the sky in a single beat.

_ ‘The Council won’t complain!’ _ The dragon chuckled.

_ ‘Of course they won’t! Next ship!’ _ Gabriel’s ferocious grin rippled through their connection.

As they ascended Gabriel strapped in his right leg, bent over to start on the left when the skyline erupted. Blood was the first scent. The next was pain. The off balanced weight of his rider twisted the dragon’s chest. Jack’s heard turned and his jaws snapped closed on air. His legs sliced through empty air as Gabriel’s hunched body began to topple towards the seas.

_ ‘Gabriel!’ _ Jack screamed. His howl of fright chased the cry through their connection. He ignored how easy this rapid descent made his body and the burning agony of pellets that pierced his wings. His hide.

His claws grabbed first leather then lashed out once more and managed to snatch a leg. Gabriel’s body was limp. The smear of liquid over his pads went ignored. Jack barely managed to flip his torso. They crashed into the waves and went under. Blood in the churning water snaked from their bodies. Jack tucked his rider to his chest. Then broke the surface, his wings weighted down by the rage of the ocean.

Each breath was a fight.

He gulped down the ocean as much as he did the sky.

_ ‘Gabriel please!’ _ Jack coughed. The noise was hacking and terrible and rattled his chest. The battle raged around them and churned the waves. Jack’s extremities began to tingle. His tail aching from the bone deep chill from the ocean. His wings were weighted down. They were immovable save for hapless beats against the water.

_ ‘Jack…,’ _ The voice was weak. Barely a whisper between them.

The dragon pulled the body closer, pressed Gabriel against his sternum and roared. The squadron circled them. They kept the ships at bay.

_ ‘Gabriel. Breath,’ _ the dragon commanded. His soaked nose nuzzled into the space beneath his rider’s chin to bump his head up. To keep him awake. To find the source of the injury.  _ ‘Where? Where?’ _

_ ‘Chest…,’  _ Gabriel’s voice was weak and losing volume.

_ ‘Damn!’ _

_ ‘Language,’ _ the reprimand floated back with a coughed up stutter.

Jack growled in response, head jerked to the left, to the galleon looming above them closer and the fiery hull that threatened their path. The dragon twisted. The snarling visage glared at the burning wood. His claws sunk into the wood, ignored the heat from the fires and pulled his body free of the grip of the ocean. The waters released their grip with a furious howl above. The crack of a mast as timber snapped under the onslaught of fire. Their squadron stayed around, fearful of coming closer to the blazing wreckage yet unwilling to leave their Commanders to the whims of the seas or their adversaries or both.

Gabriel’s breathing was shallow. The man’s shaking was now a full blown quake. Blood warm and fresh dribbled down the claws that held Gabriel close. The climb was a stutter step of agony. Each release of his hold jarred Gabriel as Jack’s frantic movements inched them along. The battle faded to the background; forgotten. They became the only focus and Jack’s brilliant gaze held only onto the rider cradled close. His body crashed atop the deck. Breaths coming in gulps as the pain he ignored before came to bear in full force. Yet Jack growled, curled his body, back heaving and wings splayed outwards to protect his rider. His Gabriel.

The burning ship groaned beneath them. And though their squadron called above, dragons and riders they trained alongside and commanded in battle, they didn’t dare dive closer to the inferno the galleon had become. Surrounded in the conflagration of his fire, Jack’s claws ghosted with a serene gentleness across the brow of his rider.

_ ‘Gabriel.’ _

_ ‘What?’ _

_ ‘Get some rest.’  _ Jack leaned down, muzzle and hot breath caressed across the matted curls and battle scars. His tail wrapped around to tuck Gabriel close. His wings formed a shield against the fire and storms.  _ ‘I’ll watch over you.’ _

_ ‘Sounds good.’ _


	5. FINAL ACT: “In Which Life, uh, Finds a Way”

_ **Note: Again, house cat sized. Again, around 14. _

**\--- --- ---**

Moccasins smacked against the cavern floor. Each step drew him closer to the latest clutch secreted away in the impression chamber. His breath puffed like a fine mist in the chilled air.

Winter had only just begun and yet one of the queens chose a most inappropriate time to lay a clutch. Eggs in the winter was most often a death sentence for the dragonlets huddled inside their shells. The eggs weren't always thick enough to push back the cold and there was little warmth to be found even deep inside the intricate cavern system. A watcher had been posted before the clutch to stoke a bonfire in an attempt to keep the dragonlets alive.

Jack was late. Blond hair stuck to his forehead and the loose fitting leathers did nothing to wick away the moisture of over exertion. The Council rang the call for prospective riders to arrive prompt and on time to witness the hatching. He slept in. Mental curses weren't enough and as he rounded the final bend towards the cavern where the eggs stayed, an audible string of foul language followed.

The other candidates were already there. So too was the Council; staring down from their carved balcony. All heads turned disapproving looks his way. He shrugged them off, adjusted the front of his jerkin and took the position at the far end of the line.

His breath hitched then.

The cavern was empty; mostly. A single egg wobbled in the center of the cylindrical room. There were other eggs but they all bore the black char mark of a stillborn.

The sole egg shook again.

The ridged side tipped then toppled over. A collective gasp rippled through the cavern. Every set of cautiously optimistic eyes watched as the crown of the deep tanned shell cracked on the stone floor and fell away. The spindly digits of a dragonlet’s curled front claw flopped out. The ends twitched but there was no other movement. The air in the cavern stilled; shuffling stopped and he felt the breath constrict in his chest.

Winter clutches were never lucky.

Another candidate shifted their weight. The scuff of leather over jagged stone and a pebble kicked loose echoed against the chamber walls. One of the Council members - the woman with an eye patch and kind face - cleared her throat.

He knew what came next.

They all did.

“Winter came early -”

“Wait!” Jack winced at his own voice.

The solemn atmosphere of ceremony broken by his own broken word. Disregarding the glances and disapproval in the gathered faces, he stepped forward to kneel by the half hatched egg. His hands touched the cold, outstretched claw. Delicate fingers pressed against the soft paw pad searching for a response. A silent prayer fell from his parted lips asking that the movement his eyes saw wasn't a simple figment of a hopeful imagination.

“Mr. Morrison!” Another Council member shouted; this one a slight man with narrow brows and a hawkish face.

“Can you hear me little guy,” Jack whispered. He ignored the disapproving looks. The Council’s reprimand fell by the wayside. His hands worked over the delicate appendage, trying to coax a reaction from the newborn’s claws. “Move.” His knees ached now. The sudden impact on hard stone hadn't  been kind. Neither were the hands that snatched at his shoulders to pull him away. “No.” He yanked at the grasp. Turned to glare at the other candidate for daring to interrupt him. “Please, move.” Jack felt the rasp in his words; the guttural raw emotion as he rubbed and coaxed the clawed appendage to respond.

It did.

Just a twitch at first. Than the claws curled inward, wrapped around his fingers in a tentative hold.

A quiet chirp followed.

Jack wrapped the leather of his sleeve around his hand. With the broad side of his forearm he banged on the egg until the shell cracked then broke. The fragile body of the dragonlet oozed out on amniotic fluid. He didn't bother with the kick that seeped through his trousers or the ache in his arm from his hasty actions. He scooped the dragonlet up. Pressed and held the chilled body close to his chest, tucking the head underneath his chin while his hands worked over the layered scales to encourage blood circulation in the dragonlet.

Another chirp.

One slime crusted eye peeled open. Deep brown peered up into summer sky blue and Jack's breath caught in his throat. The world around disappeared with a heartbeat. A thunderstorm roared into existence in his mind's eye. The tapestry of a war emblazoned there; two figures, a rider and a dragon, danced between cannonballs and flaming arrows. Their bodies in perfect sync. Lightning and torrential rain was the backdrop as wooden hulls fractured under the rending claws of a sky master. The dragon cried out a challenge. It's rider echoed the defiance.

Claws drawing blood from his hand and the falsetto wail of a dragonlet broke the illusion. Jack blinked and the war was gone. The cavern carved deep in the mountain side and chilled from a harsh winter returned. The dragonlet’s claws held fast. The curved, elongated snot opened and lifted, dagger like baby teeth wrapped around the entirety of Jack's forefinger. The newborn's eyes (now both opened) fixated upwards.

_ ‘Jack.’  _ The voice wove across his consciousness. A comforting baritone under laid with the smoke and fervor of a battled wizened warrior.

He knew that voice.

Jack fell forward, body hunched over the creature and arms wrapped in a protective embrace. The first prick of tears glistened at the corners of his eyes. The pangs in his chest coming hidden but hauntingly familiar; heartbreak.

_ ‘Jack?’ _

“Yes. Yes Jack,” he whispered. Blond head tucked further towards his chest. The pressure of his weight against the forefront of his knees cried out now in complaint to the adjustment yet he lifted up nonetheless. One foot in front of the other. Each motion done is a methodical manner until he stood with the tiny ebony dragonlet curled against his sternum.

Wide, warm brown eyes stared up. The tapered snout fell open to release his finger and reveal the rows of needle like immature teeth and fangs. The pink tongue slipped out to licked across the right eye, the nictitating membrane rolled with the motion.

_ ‘Stop crying,’ _ the raspy voice reprimanded.  _ ‘I can’t stand when you cry. _

“Sorry,” Jack flicked away the moisture. Standing straight, he turned to face the Council. The dragonlet cradled in his arm, belly up, wings curled around as a makeshift blanket and the forked tail drooped down near to his knee. He inhaled a steadying breath. “It's good to see you old friend.”

_ ‘Likewise,’  _ the dragonlet chirped. Torches lining the rough hewn walls caught the ebony hide and created an illusion of a dancing aquiline rainbow. 

“Mr. Morrison!” The Council man snapped. “If you are quite done, take the hatching to be examined. It still might not-”

“Gabriel,” Jack interrupted.

“Beg pardon?”

“His name is Gabriel and he's too stubborn to die.” Jack didn't wait for an answer or a retort or a reprimand. His turned to start the walk to the barracks, to gather his meager possessions and move to the training grounds.

The dragonlet in his arms wiggled over, claws catching on leather and rested his snout on a defined shoulder. Scaled jowls pulled away from a dangerous maw and Jack felt the puff of hot hair caress the side of his neck. The reverberating voice in his head chuckling in dark amusement. A fireball for a newborn was unusual and an omen of great future strength. The cool reptilian flesh cuddled close to the slight singe and huffed.

_ ‘Damn straight. You're stuck with me Jack.’ _

“Good.” He ran two fingers up the front of the dragonlet's, no, Gabriel's exposed stomach and ended with a light scratch under the arrogant chin. His companion preened at the attention. The gentle, rumbling purr followed them down the tunnel.

**Author's Note:**

> Can always find me on Tumblr or Twitter at: captainxcorgi!


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